


No One is Perfect, Not Even a Superhero

by ohstars



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Based on a Tumblr Post, Body Image, Commercials, Everyone Has Issues, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Gender Dysphoria, Genderfluid Loki (Marvel), LGBTQ Themes, M/M, Photo Shoots, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, References to Depression, References to Illness, Scars, Trans Peter Parker, bodyshaming, mentions of mental illnesses, stretch marks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-18
Updated: 2018-09-18
Packaged: 2019-07-13 16:46:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16021943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohstars/pseuds/ohstars
Summary: After an Avengers photoshoot, Steve learns about the horrors of retouching and photoshopping in the media. He decides to put a stop to it.





	No One is Perfect, Not Even a Superhero

**Author's Note:**

> This is based on this post: https://itsallavengers.tumblr.com/post/178154349021/concept-the-avengers-doing-a-body-positivity-ad
> 
> It's beautiful and I loved it!

“I can’t believe you talked me into this,” Sam grumbles. 

“It’s for a good cause,” Steve sighs.

Bucky chuckles, crossing his arms. “Stevie, do you ever stop to ask yourself if doing something good is worth losing your dignity?” 

Steve glares at Bucky. “Fuck off.”

“I’m not the one standing in my underwear in the middle of a crowded warehouse,” Bucky quips. 

Sam purses his lips. “He’s not wrong, Steve,” he mumbles.

Steve rolls his eyes, his hands shifting to cover himself.  

“Cap! We need you for this one,” Tony calls. 

Bucky pats Steve’s back. “Go get ‘em, Cap.” 

Steve huffs, tugging at the bottom of his boxer briefs as he waddles forward. 

The warehouse is cold, with bare walls and gray tiles covering the expanse of the building and trapping in the cool air. There were curtains everywhere, separating the makeshift dressing rooms and the different shoots. 

Their photo shoot is simple. There are four scenes set up: a chic living room, a fancy kitchen, a gym, and a simple white backdrop with a couple of stools in the center. The Avengers spent all day taking pictures, dressed in barely anything and in different combinations.

Steve glares at Tony. He’s lounging on the couch with Natasha, both clad in boxers and tank tops. “Why did I let you talk me into this?” Steve asks as he sits on the arm of the couch. 

Tony smirks. “Because deep down in your patriotic heart, you enjoy flaunting those muscles of yours.” He puts a foot in Steve’s lap.

Steve flicks him off but sets a hand on Tony’s ankle.

Natasha moves to sit up and puts Tony’s head in her lap. “Relax, Steve. You said it yourself, it’s for a good cause.”

“Yeah, think of all the sick kids you’re helping. Every photo you take with clothes could pay for a day of treatment. Think of how much you can pay  _ without _ clothes on,” Tony says. 

The photographer interrupts them. He starts moving their limbs and fixing their hair, instructing them to stay still as he gets the shots he needs. “Captain, no smile,” he calls from behind the camera. 

Steve scoffs, glancing at Tony with his brow furrowed. “Why the hell wouldn’t I smile? It’s a picture?” 

Bucky and Sam laugh from their corner. 

“It’s just how things are in these angsty photos,” Natasha says through a tight-lipped smirk. 

Steve huffs, features stormy as he looks off to where Bucky and Sam are laughing at him.

“Perfect!” the photographer cheers, snapping pictures from every direction.

 

\-------

 

“No, there’s no way in hell you can do that,” Tony says, waving his hand in the air. 

Clint shrugs. He’s perched on the back of the love seat. “Maybe I can, maybe I can’t.” 

Steve hums, tapping the eraser of his pencil against his nose. “I think he could do it,” he says.

Tony scoffs. “There’s no way! He’d have to be made of rubber for that to work.” 

“You’d be surprised what he could do,” Natasha purrs. 

Clint winks at her as the others groan.

Bucky pinches the bridge of his nose. “Are you going to show us or not?” 

Clint places both of his hands on the back of the chair, in between his feet. 

“Please don’t break anything,” Bruce sighs, not looking up from his book.

“I’ve done this a thousand times,” Clint says. He pulls himself onto his hands, his feet rising from the couch. 

Pepper walks into the compound’s common room, scrolling on her phone. “Don’t break my chair, please,” she says, dropping a stack of folders on the glass coffee table. 

“What’s this?” Natasha asks as Clint sticks both of his feet behind his head. 

Tony groans. “Barton, that’s not human. How the hell are you doing that?”

“Pretty sure Steve could do it if he tried,” Bucky says, cigarette between his lips. “He’s more flexible than you think.

Steve nudges Bucky’s stomach with his barefoot, not looking up from his sketchpad. “Barnes, don’t even start with that.” 

Bucky laughs, rubbing at Steve’s foot. 

“You two disgust me,” Sam groans, shoulder pressed against Steve’s back. 

Steve leans his head back, hair tickling Sam’s face. “You love us,” Steve laughs.

Sam rolls his eyes. He nods to the stack of folders. “What’s in those folders you got there Pep?”

Pepper sits in Tony’s lap and looks up. “Bucky put the cigarette out,” she sighs. 

Bucky blushes as he leans over and puts the cigarette out in his old coke can. 

She turns to Sam with a tired smile. “It’s the final proofs of the Calvin Klein shoot.” 

And just like that, the folders were being snatched by random Avengers.

Clint drops back down on his seat and hovers over Bruce and Natasha’s shoulder, the folder spread out on their laps. Tony flips through his own, with Pepper glancing every now and then. Steve flips through his own too, Sam and Bucky shifting to look with him.

Steve’s brow furrows. He holds up a close up of him, eyes scanning the page. 

He’s looking off screen, the shield held up high and protecting him from an unseen foe. His jeans are hanging low on his hips, showing off the bands of his Calvin’s and his Adonis’ lines. 

There’s something off about it.

Bucky leans closer, his bun tickling Steve’s ear. “Do you see that too?” 

“See what?” Sam asks. 

Steve points to his hip on the image. “There’s no stretch marks.” 

Tony looks up. “You have stretch marks?”

“I’m human, Tony. I have stretch marks.” Steve lifts up his shirt and shifts so his hips on full display to show the broken skin. A series of faded dark, jagged lines line his hip, varying in length and width. 

“But they're not here?” Bucky says, pointing to the picture. He looks around, his own brow as furrowed as Steve’s. 

Natasha leans forward and sets the folder down, spreading it out to show a picture of her. “It’s called photoshopping. People do it to make themselves or others look perfect.” She points to her the picture, her nail at her hip bone. “See something missing?”

Steve nods. “The bullet wound from the Soldier.”

“From me?” Bucky gasps. 

Natasha nods and raises her own shirt to show the scar. “You shot through me while I was on a mission.” 

Bucky’s face pales a little as he sits back.

Steve shakes his head. “Why would someone do that though? Our scars are like little badges and mementos of our missions. Why would they try to change that? It’s-It’s-”

“It’s how the world works, man,” Sam sighs. “It’s not cool but the media is obsessed with having perfect bodies. Kind of like you and the serum.” He places a hand on Steve’s shoulder. “You always talk about how no one looked twice when you were small, but after the serum…”

“Everyone loved me,” Steve mumbles. He jumps up, jolting Sam and Bucky off of him. “This isn’t right,” Steve says in his “Captain America” voice. “People shouldn’t be shamed for something so stupid.” 

Bruce adjusts his glasses as he holds up his own photo. “If it makes you feel better, they slimmed me down.” 

“They what?” Bucky, Tony, and Sam echo. 

Bruce’s eyes widen as he hands the photo to Tony. “Look at my hips and the cabinets behind me. They’re warped.”

Tony gasps. “They photoshopped my Brucie-bear!” 

Steve shakes his head. He looks to Pepper, with his Stare of Disappointment. “We need to fix this. There any way we could retract these pictures and put our own campaign out for charity?”

Pepper grins, fingers tapping away on her phone. “Give me a few days.”

 

\-------

 

The screen is filled with a simple white backdrop. A chalkboard on an easel stands in the middle of the backdrop. In cursive writing, it reads, “‘Imperfection is beauty, madness is genius and it's better to be absolutely ridiculous than absolutely boring.’ - Marilyn Monroe.” The camera zooms in on the words until there’s nothing but black. 

The chalkboard is pulled away, revealing a man’s chest. It’s chiseled, the plane of his torso carved with each muscle and accented by the thin chain of the man’s dog tags. Dashes and stripes of thin white lines and little white dots cover his body, the remainders of scars left healed and forgotten. The camera slowly travels down the man’s body and zooms in on his hips. As the camera gets closer, the thin, jagged, faded scars lining his hips; stretch marks. 

It zooms back out to show the torso of the man again, but it doesn’t stop. It keeps going, slowly revealing more of the body. First, it’s the top of the man’s jeans with the band of his Avenger’s boxers peeking out. Then it’s his shoulders, broad, powerful shoulders that turn into bulky biceps. His arms are tucked behind him, his elbows protruding out and forearms half hidden behind his back. The camera continues, showing his thick, jean-clad thighs and the start of his neck. It stops.

He pulls out a whiteboard from behind his back. It reads, “PTSD, Anxiety, Depression,” in a tight, slanted scrawl. 

The camera zooms out to reveal Steve Rogers wearing his Captain America helmet. 

Steve raises one hand, salutes the camera, and covers the lens. 

His hand moves to reveal another torso. It’s a woman, wearing an Avengers’ sports bra. It’s black with a thick band, their hero symbols circling her torso. Like with Steve, the camera travels down her body. Her skin is soft but speckled with nicks and scars. They’re not as noticeable with her voluptuous curves and toned abdomen on display, the tight waist fanning into thick hips. She turns around, revealing her spine and a long, ugly scar that runs parallel to it. 

The camera pans out, following the curve of her hips to show her jeans. Her shoulder blades, sharp and thick with muscle, are contrasted by the deep red strands of hair that stop just above her shoulders. 

She covers her lower back with the whiteboard. It reads, “PTSD.” 

The camera zooms back out, revealing Natasha Romanoff holding her hair out of her face, the Black Widow cuffs on her wrist. 

Natasha turns around, smirking at the camera as she covers it. 

Her hand moves away and again, another torso replaces her. This time, it’s recognizable. The arc reactor is placed proudly in the center of Tony Stark’s chest, the pale blue light creating a soft glare in the camera. It zooms in, showing the scars radiating from the reactor, pale in comparison to the vibrant electromagnet. The camera lingers, zooming back out to Tony’s firm torso. 

He’s holding up his own sign. “PTSD, Anxiety, Depression.” 

The camera zooms out, revealing his own jeans and Iron Man Belt. His famous goatee pops up on the screen, his smile small and timid. Tony’s face comes in full view. He winks at the camera as he covers it up.

When his hand is removed, an ear takes the screen. A small piece of metal glints from inside the ear. The person turns, dirty blonde hair framing the shot and revealing the piece. There’s a small wire hooking the earpiece to his ear. A hand reaches up and folds his ear, revealing a set of controls. 

The fingers release the ear and pull the camera to face their own chiseled torso. There’s a strap crossing his chest and a quill of arrows peeking from behind his shoulders. The man’s hands are on display, waving at the camera. It zooms out enough to show the man’s sharp jaw. His hands start to move and words appear on the screen; captions. “I’m mostly deaf and I have PTSD,” he signs. 

The camera zooms out to show Clint Barton’s face. He raises an eyebrow as he covers the camera.

The next torso isn’t as toned and muscled as the previous. It’s soft with thick hair covering most of his chest and traveling down to his jeans. The camera follows the hair down to the man’s abdomen. It lingers on his hips, showing the man’s love handles and small muffin top. The camera pans back over the man’s body, showing his jeans and small shoulders. He reaches up and fiddles with his face as the camera starts to show his face. 

It’s Dr. Bruce Banner. He’s adjusting his glasses and smiling softly at the camera. 

He lowers his glasses, the irises of his eyes glowing green for a moment before he covers the screen.

When his hand is removed, the screen is still black. The camera zooms out to reveal an eyepatch and thick brow. It pauses, the focus shifting to the scars protruding from beneath the eyepatch. The camera zooms out to reveal Thor’s grinning face.

A whiteboard slowly rises, covering his nose and jaw. It reads, “PTSD.” 

Thor throws the whiteboard behind his shoulder and wiggles his eyebrows as the camera pans out to show his bare chest and jeans. Lightning flickers out of his fingertips as he waves goodbye with one hand and covers the camera with the other. 

The screen fades into the white backdrop again. Three figures walk onto the screen, all wearing dark-wash jeans and nothing else. The first body is thin and toned, with two dark scars highlighting the crease of their pecs. He’s holding a whiteboard with the words, “PTSD, Gender Dysphoria, and Anxiety,” written neatly and slanted. 

The second body is huge, with large shoulders and a smattering of scars of varying dimensions and colors covering his muscled body. His dog tags swayed against his chest, bouncing with each breath. His left shoulder is bare, with thick ugly scars covering where his arm should be. “PTSD, Depression, Anxiety, Dissociative Amnesia, Anorexia,” his board read.

The third body wasn’t as large as the second, but he was certainly big. His broad shoulders, toned chest, and sharp abs were covered in smooth, dark skin besides a few scars here and there. His dog tags laid in the middle of his chest, a sharp contrast in comparison to his skin. He held up a picture of two men wearing wings in one hand and his whiteboard in the other. It read, “PTSD, Depression.” 

They stood there for a moment before the cameras zoomed out to reveal their faces. The first body was Spider-Man, dawning his mask and slinging a web out into the void. He dashes out of frame.

Bucky and Sam are left shaking their heads as they walk off the screen with a smile and a wave. 

Another three bodies walk onto the set, all clothed in jeans and white tees.

Dr. Strange is first, his whiteboard shaking in his hands. It reads, “PTSD, Depression, Nerve Damage.” He raises an eyebrow as he makes a circle with his hands and flips back into another dimension, disappearing from the set. 

Loki rolls their eyes. They’re in the middle, their hair slicked back and brushing their shoulders. The camera zooms in on their neck, where the faded marks of a large hand cover the skin. It pans back out and focuses on the whiteboard. “PTSD, Bipolar Depression, Gender Dysphoria, Child Abuse,” the board reads. The camera focuses on Loki again as they shift into a feminine body. 

Wanda’s last. She’s standing there with her hands glowing and her hair pulled up in a tight bun. She throws the board into the air and makes it levitate with her hands. “Anxiety, PTSD,” it reads. Wanda makes the board spin and flip in the air. She catches it with one hand and grins. 

The camera fades to black. 

When it returns, the Avengers are standing in their jeans and black Avengers shirts. Their hero symbols are proudly displayed on their chests. The team huddles together, laughing and grinning at the camera against the white backdrop. Steve and Bucky share a kiss, holding each other and giggling. Sam drapes a pride flag over their shoulders.

Below them, the phrase “No one is perfect, not even a superhero,” appears. 

The screen fades to black. Steve’s voice comes in through the speakers. “Your body is proof that you are living. The marks and scars you collect are badges of honor, reminders that you lived and you survived. We wear ours proudly because, without them, we wouldn’t be the heroes we are today. The same goes for you. Love your body, love your scars, and most importantly, love yourself.”

 

\-------

 

_ “The Avengers release a body positivity ad!” _

 

_ “Earth’s Mightiest Avengers tear down body-shaming in new, bare campaign.” _

 

_ “Spider-Man comes out as transgender in Avengers ad.” _

 

_ “Widow shows everything in body positivity ad.” _

 

_ “Additional photos released! Take a look at the stunning new Avengers campaign.” _

 

_ “Captain America and the Winter Soldier come out as gay in new Avengers ad.” _

 

_ “The Avengers new ad shatters YouTube records with millions of views in a matter of hours.” _

 

_ “The Avengers suffers from PTSD, depression, anxiety and many more mental illnesses. Are they fight to fight?” _

 

_ “Bruce Banner went shirtless for the new Avengers ad and we’ve all been sleeping on him for too long. Need more proof? Read below.”  _

 

_ “New Avengers campaign sparks new, wholesome Internet trend and we can’t get enough.” _

 

_ “Scars, PTSD, and anti-body-shaming in new Avengers campaign.” _

 

_ “Avengers show off their scars both mentally and physically in new ad and the world loves it.” _

 

\-------

 

The Avengers climb out of their small bus and into the New York air. Times Square is bustling, with tourists and cars everywhere, but the Avengers don’t care. They walk into the middle of the square and look up in awe as their body positivity ad covers the screens. 

Bucky points to a picture of him and Steve holding hands, their backs to the screen. “Ever thought you’d see that blown up in Times Square?”

Steve smiles and shakes his head. “No, but I’m glad I do.”

Tony nudges Steve’s arm. “You did good, Capsicle.”

“We did good, Stark,” Steve corrects as he slings an arm over Tony’s shoulder. “Lookin’ pretty suave in your photo there, Tony,” Steve teases as he nods to Tony’s solo shot. 

“What are you talking about Rogers? I always look suave,” Tony scoffs.

“Not when you haven’t slept in three days and refuse to shower, you don’t,” Pepper sighs.

Tony glares at her halfheartedly.

Bucky shrugs. “Steve ain’t much better. He’ll be on a mission for weeks and still want to sleep before showering.” He scrunches his face. “It’s gross.”

“Oh, shut up,” Steve laughs. “You love when I smell gross, ya perv.” 

“Yeah, the fresh-out-of-the-gym gross, not a week-of-Avenging gross,” Bucky says.

Sam gags. “You two will be the death of me.” 

Bucky jumps onto Sam’s back and gives him a noogie. “Say you love me, Wilson,” he coos.

Steve rolls his eyes. 

Natasha hugs him from behind. “Thank you for this, Steve.”

He pats her arms. “Thank you for going along with it.” 

“You probably don’t even realize how big of a step this was, but this,” she points to their group shot on the biggest screen, “that right there is going to change the world.” 

“We do that a lot, don’t we?” Steve sighs.

Tony leans against Steve. “We wouldn’t be the Avengers if we didn’t.”

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hi on tumblr, @oh--stars!


End file.
